DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, I just make them do funny stuff.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, I am insane. I am a fruitcake, a certified member of the Fruitcake Alliance.  I don't even know if this is funny.  I kinda just think it's truly bizarre, so read at your own risk.

The Evil Mime Demons

            Buffy looked at Spike.  They'd averted an apocalypse.  Again.  He looked at her and tenderly swept her hair out of her face and leaned his toward hers.

            "Slayer," he said, his voice low and gentle, yet still containing intense emotion.

            "Spike," Buffy said, and right as they were about to finally sort out their relationship, a giant pink lightning bolt shot across the sky and freaky whistling that sounded oddly like Britney Spears' 'Sometimes' filled the air.  Buffy and Spike looked around.  Something was definitely happening.

            They looked around.  Everyone else: all of  the Potentials, the Scoobies, even Angel's malnourished prairie dog-esque son, Connor, had disappeared.

            Finally, they met each other's eyes, and Buffy opened her mouth to scream in horror.  Nothing happened.  Her hand went to her throat, and she thought of the other time when they'd been trapped into a magical silence.

            This time, however, was far different.  She looked again at Spike and remembered why she'd tried to scream.  His normally pale face was covered in white paint, and his lips were black.

            How am I supposed to tell Spike he's a mime? Buffy wondered.  Spike, a goofy smile on his painted face, gestured at her wildly as he stared at her in horror.  Slowly, looked at her own hand.  It was painted white.

            Her mouth dropped open in exaggerated mime dismay.  Overcome by magical forces, she began to climb a pretend ladder.

            Spike, helpless to do otherwise, slowly lifted his hand over his head, flexed back.  Then he did the same with the other hand.  Slowly, his hands came forward, one at a time.  Then an angry look, which Buffy interpreted to mean 'I'm trapped in a sodding box' came over his face.

            Somewhere on a separate plane, the evil mime demons laughed maniacally, or they would have, had they been able to make a single sound.  Instead, the just motioned their hilarity with their seven mime hands and huge smiles settled over their evil mutant mime faces.

The End